Moonspear the smallest steps bring about the most lasting change.

Fig had loitered in the valley for a while before finally deciding it was time to make the trek to Moonspear. He knew he was out of excuses when as to why he was delaying. And, more than that, he realized for the first time in a long time that he was ready to move forward again. He’d been standing still for too long, in spite of all the reasons he’d given himself for why it was good for him to do so. That had been true for a while, but he knew it wasn’t anymore. He needed to move on, but he could only do so by going back.

He’d meant to call as soon as he came to the pack’s borders, but his timing had been just right to come across Penn as he was returning from wandering about the Glen. They spent some time catching up almost like old friends, though neither of them were likely to admit that was the case. After a while, Penn at least realized Fig was stalling and promptly told him to ”Quit being a little bitch about it.” and finally, after taking sufficient enough time to scowl at him for it, Fig tipped his head back and called for @Fennec.

Fennec really hadn't been expecting him to come. Her heart leapt and she could have cried right then at that familiar voice, but she'd been enough of a mess for everyone these last few weeks that she wasn't about to make him deal with that too. Besides... as happy as she was just to have him even want to speak with her, she couldn't believe that he'd forgive her for the way she left. Maybe he was just here to make that clear.

She approached apprehensively, relief and fear co-mingling to make her feel a little nauseous. Her ears were back and she didn't approach him entirely, leaving him a good amount of space while she stopped and waited with sudden, heavy dose of dread. What if he actually did just... write her off?

Hey. Her throat was tight, and it came out a little shakily. Fuck, her heart was just hammering. He hadn't even said anything yet. She took in a breath and tried to calm herself down. I can't fucking freak out here. I can't mess this up worse than I already have. If he even gave her the chance.

Penn had decided to hang around until Fenn got there. He hadn’t been very forthcoming about their relationship, but the expression on his face suggested that Penn was just as smitten with his sister as he had been when they were kids. He’d intended to pay close attention to his interaction with Fenn when she arrived, but when the moment came, Fig found himself almost entirely disinterested in Penn Blackthorn.

Fig hadn’t bothered trying to figure out what he would say or do when he saw his sister again. He was smart enough to know any plans he made would almost immediately go flying right out the window. He watched her approach, noting her body language just as easily as he always had. She was nervous. She was happy. She was terrified.

Penn approached her after she said her hello in one of the smallest voices Fig had ever heard her use. He watched him press his muzzle softly against her cheek as he passed her and saw his lips move to whisper something indeterminable to Fig (I’ll be around) before slipping away.

Fig watched him go for a heartbeat or so, then he moved with sudden, determined purpose towards his sister. There had been a time when he’d wanted to shout at her for what she’d done. Now could’ve been his chance. But of course, he didn’t. He had stopped being mad a long time ago. All he wanted now was exactly what he went in to get—a great big hug.

”Hey Fenny,” he said, a smile erupting across his face as emotion flooded him.

She didn’t know Penn was there, and while she noticed as he passed, she barely acknowledged it over the roar of her nerves. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Everything was starting to feel overwhelming in about the worst way, and that was usually when she bolted, but this time she forced herself to stay. She had to face him, it didn’t matter what that meant. Or what he said or didn’t say. She owed it to him and she wasn’t running again. Even if, as he came closer, she wanted to sink into the ground and disappear entirely.

She shrank a bit, but he didn’t stay aloof or back. Instead he came forward and did the absolute last thing she expected. Fucking hell, she was so damn tired of crying, and she’d told herself she wouldn’t. But here she was, fucking again, because she didn’t deserve this and Fig would never not be ten times better than she could ever hope to be.

She returned the hug, sinking into it, shaking. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I was stupid, and I fucking ruined everything, and you didn’t deserve any of that. It was awful, and by the time I figured out what an idiot I was, it was too late and I had no idea how to find you. She was babbling, all of it things she’d rehearsed time and time and time again but assumed she’d never get the chance to say. It didn’t seem real that he was here.

Fig listened as Fenn launched into a barrage of apologies and explanations. He hated to hear her cry, but he wouldn’t try to stop her from shedding them. He’d learned there was no preventing negative emotions. People had to feel them in order to heal from them.

”I’m sorry for how much I pushed you,” Fig responded, feeling his own throat tighten, ”I should’ve given you time and space. I’m the one who backed you into a corner and made you feel like you had to run. I was selfish. I cared more about not having to see you hurt than I did about you being able to deal with that hurt the way you needed to.”

I still shouldn’t have left. She’d hated herself for it for nearly a year, and had wished she could take it back more times than she could really put words to. She’d hated herself for it so much, in fact, that it had been impossible to imagine he wouldn’t hate her too.

Being alone was worse. When I couldn’t find you, I went to mom instead. I figured if you went anywhere, you’d go there. Even if you didn’t want to talk to me, at least then I could try and apologize. She cut off, tucking her ears back and hugging in even tighter.

She still didn’t understand why he hadn’t come sooner if he had forgiven her. But she didn’t care. Months of slow guilt had turned into a few weeks of outright misery, but now she had finally at least apologized. There wasn’t anything else she could do, and even with it, and even with his apparent forgiveness, a part of her wondered if things would be the same… if he would trust that she was sorry, that she wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

If he would stay.

She didn’t think so. Fig from before wouldn’t have gone weeks without seeing her after months spent apart. Fig from before wouldn’t have opened the option of leaving. She hated how much she selfishly mourned the loss of what they had. Fennec had been the one to light it on fire in the first place.

Fig wanted to agree with her and tell her that he wished she hadn’t left. He couldn’t bring the words to his tongue, though. As heartbroken and angry as he was that she had done it, he could see now how well it had actually served him. He’d needed that space from her to finally build his own independence. He’d spent too much of his life basically living for her. He’d needed that push to finally learn to live for himself.

But how to say that without breaking her heart?

”I needed to spend some time on my own after what happened,” Fig told her gently, ”I left the Wilds and traveled for a while by myself. Took me a while to decide my next move. I’m not sure I actually would’ve ever taken one had I not run into Penn and gotten bullied into spending a few weeks traveling with him.”

”I’m sorry it took me so long to finally come home, and to come see you,” he said at last as he pulled back from her so he could better see her as they spoke. ”Mom and Dad wanted me to come with them, but I just wanted to come on my own. I didn’t want it to look like they were forcing us to make amends, like they did when we were little.” He grinned at that thought, hoping it might make her smile too.

The idea that he’d needed space too did break her heart a little. She’d always wondered, always worried, but she’d also seen the closeness Towhee and Phox had and hoped maybe that was just the way things were and could be. Maybe he really could want to be with her, like that, and have the other things he wanted. It was a stupid hope.

Penn made you travel with him? She asked rhetorically, pulling away a little. She’d had no one, hit rock bottom and then sank below it, and all she’d wanted was a friend who would stay. She’d run out on Fig… she had no excuses there. But Penn had shown no interest in her company, and even though he had explained why, it cut deeper knowing he’d invited Fig but hadn’t bothered with her.

She didn’t want to make this about her. Maybe she’d needed to be destroyed to this point, and do most of the damage herself, to figure out how to be a decent fucking person. But it was hard, and her voice was quiet as she responded. She tried to sound genuine, and the words were true, but all she felt right now was loss.

I’m glad, that you’re happier now. At least, he seemed it. I thought you just didn’t want to talk to me, and since you didn’t come with them, you weren’t coming at all. I figured I’d fucked up enough times that we were done, and you were just making excuses to dad as to why. She swallowed, but she couldn’t summon a smile. She just kept picturing him and Penn, out there together, growing and helping each other while she tried as hard as she could to pull herself together with only her mom and Killer to help. It hadn’t been the same, and if she was honest, it hadn’t been enough.

Fig was a little surprised when Fenn questioned him about Penn's involvement, but other than make a mental note of it as an interesting fact, he didn't put too much thought into it. Not yet, anyway. "He did," Fig answered when otherwise he would've just nodded since he sensed she wasn't looking for an explanation.

"We're never going to be done, Fenny," Fig replied, his smile soft and a sad. He hated that she'd had to suffer with that feeling, "I'll never stop being your brother, no matter what distance there is between us. You're my sister, even when I'm upset with you. Even when you try to run away from me. Always."

He wanted to apologize to her, share his sympathy that she'd had to deal with everything on her own. But, he reminded himself that she'd done it to herself. And yes, she'd regretted it. But that didn't mean he needed to rescue her from the consequences of her own decisions.

His reassurances didn’t help as much as they should have. She knew it was unhealthy, relying on others so much and yet fearing her reliance was the only thing keeping them around. It was a pattern she’d been actively trying to break but it seemed like that insecurity loved rearing it’s ugly head too much when it came to the ones she loved.

He didn’t ask about the last year and she didn’t want to talk about it, really. She couldn’t be his problem to fix anymore, even if she desperately wanted him to want her to be. She wouldn’t force him into that place again. Maybe things would have gone better for her if she hadn’t run. Maybe if Penn had actually stuck around, asked her to come with, she would have been able to laugh and joke about things and wouldn’t have spent a year trying to piece herself back together. Or maybe they’d have fought, just like she had with Fig, just like she had with Bronco, and they would have been done too.

It was pointless thinking about maybe.

She tried to find the right words, and settled on ones that felt the most honest. Fennec would carry whatever hurt she carried, but they all needed to just move forward. What are you doing next? I.. She hesitated, then resolved. Clearly he could make his own decisions now. I want you to stay. But it’s okay if you don’t. Obviously. She had no right to be upset, and even if she couldn’t force her feelings not to be, she could choose not to hold it against him. So she wouldn’t.

Fig could hear the longing behind her question. This had been the moment he’d feared the most. The one that had kept him away longer than he knew was right. He hadn’t wanted to face it, for her sake as well as his own. But, here it was.

He knew his answer. He decided a while ago that he wouldn’t stay, that he couldn’t. It was too easy to fall back into the pattern of his life revolving around her, making sure she was safe, making sure she was happy. Feeling like such a failure when she wasn’t one or the other. He needed the space, perhaps as badly as she needed him close. And he knew his sister well enough to know that it would kill her when he took it.

”I want to stick around for a while, catch up with you and everyone,” Fig said, feeling as though he was fumbling his words already. His nerves caught on fire instantly, almost as if his very body was trying to sabotage him—so intense was his instinct to stay in her orbit.

”After that…” he continued with a heavy breath, ”After that, I’m going to head East again. I spent some time that way and I really liked the area. I want to stay nearby so I can visit with you guys. But… don’t take this personally because it’s really not about you… I just realized that… I need to live my own life, do my own thing. Lead myself. Without mom or dad or… anyone…”

Fig shook his head, knowing he’d completely botched it. All of his careful planning about precisely what to say, wasted. He was making such a mess of this, and he’d been reliving it over and over again for days to come.

She’d already known the answer, but it really didn’t make it any easier to hear. She didn’t believe him entirely - it was about her, and she felt they both knew it. She let it pass, but she cursed herself again for ruining the relationship they’d once had. He wouldn’t visit often, and eventually they’d drift apart. She couldn’t answer for a moment.

It’s fine. It wasn’t. But she shoved that shit down, deep down, and locked it away.

Kind of funny, you wanting to be alone, me being unable to stand it. She huffed out a laugh, but it wasn’t real, and the smile didn’t stick. I hope you find what your looking for out there, Fig. I really do. If he did, it would be something that kept him there, away from them and away from her. She made herself hope anyway.

It would've been easy for Fig to look away, hide his eyes from the pain he caused her. She would never know he'd been a coward, but he would know. And so, he faced it. He watched her heart break, watched her shut down and try to mask the hurt with a sardonic comment. It was horrible to see. Horrible to know it was his fault. Horrible to feel like the most selfish creature on the planet. Horrible to know he needed to be so horrible.

Fig swallowed a lump in his throat, uncertain where to go from here. He'd made such a mess of this and they both would be miserable for it for days. Part of him wanted to give her another hug and then just leave to sort out his thoughts and feelings. But that would be too cruel. They'd waited too long for it to just end on this awful note. So, he would try.

"We all do eventually," Fig reassured her quietly, hoping she wouldn't scoff at the sentiment. He really did believe that, though he suspected she might not be willing to hear it yet.

"Hey, enough about me," Fig said then, trying to smile and take on a more casual tone, "What about you? Have you found what you're looking for?"

No. And I don’t really think I ever will. I’m just trying to get better at being okay with that. Because if what she wanted was a place where her family was around her, and he wasn’t there, then she was going to have to be.

A lot’s changed. She’d changed, not that he would know. And now he never would, really, because visits would never be enough to know. She really needed to not be here.

Sorry, I just… I can’t. Later, okay? She didn’t wait to see if it was, or to see how that affected him, because now it was her turn to need space. It was getting harder to breathe, and she immediately made her way towards the ulaq she’d been working on for the last few days. It was the perfect place to hide.

Everything about this felt familiar in a way that had silently crashed over her and left her sick. It didn’t matter what he used to explain it, emotionally she could only see it as a punishment. Because maybe if he knew how much she’d changed over the past year, he wouldn’t need so much space. But he couldn’t give her the chance to show him. None of them ever did, because none of them ever actually believed she could be better than she was.

It was stupid, it was emotional, it was selfish, and it was incredibly personal. She’d act as if nothing happened later. But right now she needed to process it, and that meant sobbing her heart out in the darkness and trying to stifle the sound best she could.

Fig's ears fell as she responded and abruptly dismissed herself.  He'd known she would do this. He'd known she would be miserable and pessimistic and bitter no matter what he tried to say. It was simply her nature, and as much as he told himself he loved her and accepted her just as she was, his mind went right to the conversation he'd had with Tauris only days ago. He did wish she would change.

It was hard to admit to himself—the guilt surrounding the acknowledgment of it was awful to feel. But he did. It was her negativity, her self-pity, her cynicism that he knew he couldn't be around. She had the power to make him feel so low when she was like this because he cared so much about her. Fig knew that was the reason he needed the distance. Somewhere in the speech he'd planned for her, he'd confidently and calmly explained that to her. But he didn't kid himself. Even in those imagined conversations, she'd still reacted like this. It never would've gone well.

Fig didn't say anything as she left. Just stood quietly at the mountain's borders, staring at the ground where she'd been not long ago. He wanted to leave, go back East and start his new life, well away from all of this drama.

But, he didn't. Because there was something he wanted even more then.

He wanted his mommy.